


The Toybox

by Wiggins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Lily Evans Potter Lives, Original Character-centric, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:20:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiggins/pseuds/Wiggins
Summary: The place where rabid bunnies inspired by friendly discussion live until they outgrow their beginnings.  All chapters, unless otherwise marked, are standalone concepts, fic prompts, or story snippets that come from AUs dreamt up by a group of rather flighty fan folk.1. Dead Wives Club AU: Lily Potter doesn’t stay dead. Some sacrifices cannot be undone, but under certain circumstances body, breath, magic, and bone can bebequeathed. Lily is a whole new woman now, but Harry is still her #1 priority.2. Twilight Mess AU: wherein four friends transmigrate to theTwilightuniverse, and it's definitelyallLauren's fault.  Now they've got to try not to be too OOC while figuring out just how close this universe really is to the canon they know.





	1. Dead Wives Club AU (Part One)

Ashleigh met Ashly and Ashlee online, via fandom. Once they’d gotten to the point of sharing first names instead of user profiles, they had all laughed over the fact that they shared _most_ of a first name. Amongst themselves, they each went by their middle names: Ashleigh _Marie_ , Ashly _Lee_ , and Ashlee _Anne_. Marie was the oldest, Anne the middle, and Lee the baby of the group, not that that mattered when they were neck-deep in an argument about Game of Thrones or Teen Wolf. They’d bonded over mutual love/hate/love of the MCU, and all three expected that their friendship would outlast the franchise.

In the spirit of said friendship, they’d arranged to meet in a central location in order to see Endgame together. Columbus, Ohio, wasn’t exactly top biller on anyone’s road trip list, but the hotels were cheap and the movie tickets plentiful. They’d arrived, one by one: first Lee, then Anne, and finally, Marie. By the time the last had arrived, the first had created an entire itinerary for the remainder of their first day.

“We can’t go online, obviously,” Lee said. “Spoilers.”

“Why would we go online, we’re all here,” Anne pointed out.

“You obviously have a plan, Lee,” Marie said. “Spill!”

Lee beamed and immediately started listing off options: “We can get matching tattoos-”

“No,” Marie said immediately.

Lee immediately broke out the puppy eyes: “But-“

“I’ll think about it,” Marie amended. “Not matching, but…same theme?”

Lee glanced at Anne with a raised eyebrow.

Anne shrugged. “I could be convinced.”

“Tabling that one for now,” Lee said, grinning maniacally. “Okay, next – how do you feel about ghost tours?”

“That sounds like a lot of walking,” Anne pointed out.

“Meh,” Marie said, lips twisting.

“Okay, okay, okay – wanna go to a psychic?”

“In _Columbus_?” Marie muttered.

“A psychic?” Anne echoed, looking thoughtful. “Could be fun.”

“Yes!” Lee said, clapping her hands. “Come on, Marie, live a little!”

“Will I be meeting a tall, dark, and handsome stranger?” Marie asked, lips twitching.

“Maybe you’ll see a Grim,” Anne offered.

Lee flicked her in the arm: “No death portents! Only fun!”

“All right, so I guess we’re going to see a psychic.”

“And then getting tattoos~,” Lee sang.

Marie and Anne exchanged looks and then said, “ _Maybe_ ,” in unison.

* * *

The psychic that Lee directed them to was, conveniently enough, only a few blocks from the movie theater, which was, in turn, only a few blocks from the restaurant they had chosen for their post-film dinner and discussion. The three were in a convenient triangle, _and_ a short drive from the hotel, allowing them to get a cab to their first destination and walk to the others.

“Walking,” Anne groaned. “It’s already been a long day.” She had flown the farthest, as she was currently pursuing her graduate education in NYC. The trio had already made tentative plans to meet there for their next outing, as Lee had never been to the city and Marie conveniently had family there.

“Only two more hours till Endgame,” Lee said, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I can’t wait to see who dies,” Marie said with great enthusiasm.

“No!” Lee said, crossing her arms to form an ‘x’: “No angst! Only fun!”

“No Dana, only Zuul,” Marie retorted, smirking.

Anne rolled her eyes at the antics of the other two. She hooked an elbow through each of the other girls’ arms and set them off down the sidewalk. “Come _on_ , where is this psychic?”

Lee pulled her phone out and rattled off the address: “Turn here, take a right there, and – we’re here!”

The shop was appropriately mystical looking. The front window display was dimly lit with a dull pinkish light that evoked a spooky aura. There was a waterfall of velvety looking scarves in an assortment of colors spilling down the wall to pool in cloth puddles over a large table. Dotted amongst the scarves were crystals of assorted shapes, sizes, and colors. A scattering of tarot cards was visible peeking out from behind some crystals and halfway obscured by the scarves.

Marie saw the 10 of Swords, and shivered.

Lee saw the Tower, and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Anne saw Death, and had no idea what it meant, because she’d never owned a Tarot deck. She pulled her friends from their reverie by _literally_ pulling them towards the door of the small shop. The bell above the door didn’t tinkle or jangle, it resounded like a church bell, and _that_ was what made Anne pull up short: a strange sense of déjà vu, a cold chill down her spine, that _noise_ echoing in her mind till she was nearly dizzy with it.

“You okay?” Marie asked, holding Anne steady.

“I’m fine, just a head rush I think.”

“We can always ditch this and get snacks,” Lee offered.

“No,” Anne said, stubbornly refusing to wreck her friends’ fun over something so trivial. “We came to see a psychic-“

“And a psychic you shall see,” came a low, amused voice.

All three girls jerked, looking up to find an extraordinarily beautiful woman smiling at them. She was tall, at least six and a half feet, and that wasn’t even counting the truly _epic_ boots that went up to her knees. Her hair was long and curled loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes were large, lined with a vivid black and such a bright _gold_ color that Marie immediately dismissed them as contacts.

Lee wasn’t so sure, and the hair on her neck had yet to lie flat.

“Do you take walk-ins?” Anne asked.

The woman shrugged a shoulder: “I don’t turn them away.”

“How much?”

She looked to the side, where a large grandfather clock stood between two bookcases. The woman frowned at the clock, then frowned at them. “I don’t normally close till 6:00PM-“

“That’s fine,” Anne said.

“Our movie starts at 6:30PM, so we’ll be out of your hair by then,” Marie said confidently.

“You could do us all at once?” Lee offered. “We did come here together.”

“And you’ll leave together,” the woman said, nodding sharply.

Marie narrowed her eyes, discomfited by the odd turn of phrase.

“Come, sit,” the woman told them, gesturing towards an arrangement of large, soft, squishy-looking furniture surrounding a short table. She settled herself on a high-backed, throne-like chair and pointed them at the sofa opposite her. In the time it took the trio to sit, she had produced a deck from… _somewhere_ , and was shuffling with great theatricality.

Marie started humming, but neither Anne nor Lee recognized the tune.

The woman paused in her shuffling and a myriad of expressions crossed her face: surprise, annoyance, chagrin, and finally something like resignation. “I’ve never cared for that particular Cher song,” she said, voice as dry as the desert.

“Sorry,” Marie said, flushing and ducking her head. “It just…got stuck in my head all of a sudden.”

A considering hum was the only response, but she resumed shuffling after a moment. “I like to tailor my readings, so you may not recognize the spread,” she said, beginning to place the cards. She did so in seemingly random order, but once she was done a spiral had emerged. The trio watched as she flipped the cards: Lee and Marie with increasing discomfort, Anne with simple curiosity.

The Tower, Death, the Empress, the Hanged Man, the Lovers, the World, the Wheel of Fortune, what looked like half of the Swords suit, and several Pentacles. By the time the last card had been flipped, Lee had a death grip on Marie’s hand, and Marie was biting her lip so hard the flesh had gone white.

“Oh,” the woman said softly, glancing from the reading to the clock and back. She pressed one hand to her heart and sighed, breath seeming to rattle in her lungs. “I should have locked that door,” she murmured, then shook her head. “Well, too late now.”

“Too late for _what_?” Lee asked tersely.

“You _see_ more clearly than most, better – you do not _ignore_ ,” the woman said. She took another card and tossed it to Lee’s lap with a flick of her wrist.

The Fool stared up at Lee, one foot poised to begin a new journey.

“Trust your instincts, but be careful,” the woman said, then turned to Marie. “You are more perceptive than you give yourself credit for, but you must learn to take heed.” She flicked a card at Marie.

The Moon seemed almost to cast light beyond the bounds of the card’s borders.

“One must explore the shadows in order to define them,” she said, smiling sadly. She turned at last to Anne, and grinned: “You are grounded, balanced in a way your friends are not. This is good. They will need you, and you, them.” She flipped a final card, leaning across the table to pass it directly into Anne’s hand.

The Magician raised his wand; the curled fingers of his other hand seemed almost to beckon.

“You will find your own magic, in time,” the woman said. She leaned back after a moment and sighed again, “I will do what I can for you, but-“

There was a sharp crack as the door to the shop was flung open so hard it crashed against the wall. The three friends jerked, twisting in their seats to see a man in the doorway. He was tall and breathing hard: there was a sneer on his face and a gun in his hand.

He raised the gun, pointed it, and-

Ashleigh Marie knew no more.

* * *

She breathed in: dust, despair, blood.

She choked on the air in her lungs, the lingering emotions, the sudden slow-and-steady ba-thump/ ba-thump/ ba-thump of blood pumping through her veins. The beat started slow-and-steady, but it was rapidly getting faster as she twitched and spasmed back to life, or some semblance of it. She kept coughing, convulsing out of the arms that had been wrapped around her and falling face-first to the debris-laden floor.

She vomited black bile, and something green and shining, that sparked and fizzed in the puddle of spreading sick for the barest fraction of a second before it was quenched. Slowly, panting for breath, she planted her arms against the wood of the floor and pushed herself upright. Her face was wet, a last line of vomit was dripping from the corner of her mouth, her head was ringing with an echo of sound-

An explosion-

Ringing, terrible laughter-

Screaming, so much _screaming_ -

There was a movement in her peripheral and she went scrambling back, scooting across the floor and away.

She fetched up against a wall and stared, wide-eyed, at the man crouched and reaching out to her, scant feet from where she huddled.

“Lily?” he breathed, voice scratchy – from tears, she’d guess, judging by his face. “Lily, you’re – you’re _alive_!”

She watched him warily, searching his face. He had large, dark eyes, a beaky sort of nose, a crooked mouth, twisting now with emotion, and _she did not recognize him_. “Who-“ she coughed, swiping one arm across her mouth to wipe away yet more bile. “Who are you?”

“ _Lily_ ,” he said again, his hand flexing once before dropping to his side. He looked… absolutely gutted.

 _Who is Lily?_ She thought the question, but did not ask. It was obvious that _she_ was Lily, even if she remembered that name about as well as she did its speaker. “Who are you,” she asked again. “Wh-what _happened_?”

_What happened here?_

_What happened to **me?**_

_Where am I?_

_What’s going on?_

**_Who am I?_ **

There was a sudden cry, soft and plaintive, and it drew her attention like lightning. Beyond the strange man, against the far wall was a _crib_. She scrambled to her feet, drawn like a magnet, and before she could really _think_ she was passing him and sweeping a child into her arms.

There was something wet on the child’s face, she felt it soaking into her clothes and skin. She paid it no heed because wasn’t her face we too? Stranger things were afoot than tears and snot. Something inside her seemed to settle as soon as the child was pressed against her. That strange – _Was it strange? She didn’t know. She didn’t know **anything**_ – despair faded a little into the background, giving way to grief and relief, mingled and so sharp that fresh tears sprang to her eyes. The child sobbed quietly, but tucked its head under her chin, ear pressed over her heart, in a gesture so automatic that she had to assume it was common.

 _This is **my** child,_ she realized.

She didn’t remember having a child.

She _didn’t_ have a-

 ** _My child,_** said _something_ inside her. It was something old and deep, something instinctual and automatic, something desperate and grasping, something that sang in the air with a brilliant _chime_ that wiped clean the last echo of that terrible _noise_. She swept a hand over the child’s hair, tucking him even closer, and turned to the man on the floor.

He was staring up at her like she was something marvelous, wonderful, _miraculous_.

It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She wavered for a moment, but something seemed to whisper, _Trust your instincts, and take heed._

“Who _are_ you?” she demanded.

“You don’t remember – Lily, what _happened_?”

“Who _are_ you? Tell me!” she snarled, baring her teeth and backing away, towards the door.

He started to rise to his feet the moment she began retreating. “Lily, please, it’s me, it’s Severus – we, we were friends.”

“ _Were_ friends?” she echoed, still backing away. “What are we _now_?”

His expression flickered, went blank and dark and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the _determination_ that settled there. “Lily-“

“Get _out_ ,” she told him. “Get away from me!” There was a sharp cracking noise from below, and she spun, looking around wildly. She heard the rustle of cloth and the creak of a board and turned again, finding Severus several feet closer than he had been. She leapt back, through the doorway and something _snapped_ inside of her, like the recoil of a rubber band: the door slammed shut between them.

The child whimpered, and she rocked it, bussing a quick kiss over the top of its head.

“James!” cried a hoarse voice. “Lily! Harry!”

She wavered, for a moment, between the door and the stairs. The door was Severus, the stairs – and the voice at the bottom – was unknown. Severus was…she shook her head at the door and took the stairs as fast as she safely could with a child in her arms, nearly tripping at the bottom. There was a light swinging towards her and she paused, blinking, as it illuminated a face twisted and desperate.

“Lily?” the man said, disbelief and hope raw in his eyes. “Harry!” he cried, eyes dropping to the child in her arms.

 _A boy then,_ she realized. _Harry,_ she thought, turning the name over in her mind.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He reared back as if struck. “Lily, it’s _me_ – it’s _Sirius_. Wait. What’s my animagus form?”

She blinked at him in confusion.

The light he was holding up twisted as he shifted his grip on – _a stick?_ – and pointed it at her face. “Give me your arm,” he ordered.

She shifted Harry carefully to brace his whole weight on her right arm and stretched out her left arm towards him automatically. She frowned and shook her head as she did so, confused as to _why_ that was automatic. A child’s embrace she could understand, but offering up her left arm? She was right-handed, she was pretty sure. At least, she’d braced Harry on her right _hip_ , so it seemed logical to assume she was right-handed.

The man – _Sirius_ – pointed the stick at her wrist and muttered something she couldn’t hear. After a moment a series of tracks appeared, beginning at her wrist and leading up to her elbow. She thought they might have been deer tracks, or perhaps paw prints? It wasn’t entirely clear, and her focus was more on the man’s face: first relief, then confusion.

“Lily, what-“

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t forget you out of spite,” she said. “I didn’t know my own name until the man upstairs told me, and I didn’t know his-“ she tilted her chin towards Harry, “-till you said it.”

“The man upstairs?”

“He said his name was Severus?”

Sirius jerked like he’d been shot and sprinted for the stairs.

“I told him to get out,” she called after him.

He continued up the stairs and through the nursery door, slamming it open. “He’s gone,” Sirius called.

“Good,” she muttered to Harry. “He was making me uncomfortable, and he made _you_ cry, didn’t he?” She waited for Sirius to make his way back down the stairs, he did it even faster than she did, but she attributed that to the lack of child in his arms. “I woke up a few minutes ago. I don’t know what happened.”

“What do you remember? _Anything_?” he asked her urgently, eyes frantically skimming over her and Harry over and over as if he thought they might disappear if he stopped.

“An explosion? And… laughter. Someone was… laughing.” She shook her head to rid herself of the memory of the noise. “And then, something green?” She curled around Harry instinctively, hunching her shoulders to envelop more of him.

Sirius nodded, lips tight. “We have to get you out of here, there might be more of them and – _Peter_ ,” he spat the name with such vitriol that she recoiled, “-knows where most of the safe houses are. We have to get you somewhere _else_.”

She studied him for a moment, paying heed to her body and that something inside of her. It was silent, but warm. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you.”

He paused, staring at her. “You really don’t remember _anything_?” he asked.

“ _No_ ,” she said tightly. “I woke up to _destruction_ and Harry was _crying_ and – _I don’t know what happened._ ”

Sirius took in a deep breath and nodded. “Follow me,” he said, turning and flicking his wand in several directions.

She watched rubble shift and items – clothing, a few toys, two bags – fly through the air towards them. Sirius caught them, one by one, waved his wand over them and tucked them away into his sleeve. He was wearing a rather voluminous sleeved cloak. She didn’t question it. Compared to all the other things that had happened, _were_ happening, it wasn’t worth remarking on.

Clearly magic was real, people did it with wands. Acknowledge and move on.

He led her through a few more rooms before they hit a large, open area. It had once been nice, she assumed, but in the light cast by Sirius’s wand it was clear that something – _someone_ – had utterly wrecked the place. The floor was torn and smoking in some places, damp and shining with mysterious liquids in others. One whole section near another wall had been blown outward, as if something had exploded. Another section of flooring had been stretched and bubbled into spikes. Some of the spikes were wet with blood, and she caught a glimpse of a furred body there before she turned away.

At the far end of the room from the doorway they’d come through was another door, large and ornate, that had been blown clean off its hinges. By the door there was a body. She was moving before she could think – _again_ – and something inside her was rising up – _again_. She darted across the floor and sank to her knees by the body with a sharp thud.

He was-

He had been-

The man was tall, at least six feet, with skin dark and warm. His hair was a riotous tangle of inky black curls, spread out on the floor beneath him. There were glasses askew on his face, round and wire-rimmed. Her hand was reaching out to right them before she could think. She took them off his face, set them to one side, and then her hand hovered over hazel eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. His eyes were still bright, not yet clouded in death, and _beautiful_.

She felt wetness on her cheeks and she knew that she was crying again.

She closed the man’s eyes with gentle fingers. She slipped the glasses – _one lens cracked, the other intact_ – onto his face.

There was a terrible wound in her, like something had been torn in jagged pieces from somewhere deep inside of her.

She looked at the man and she wanted to throw herself on his chest and weep.

She wanted to howl grief to the sky.

She didn’t know his name – _James, it’s probably James, isn’t that the first name Sirius called?_ – but he _was_ , he _had been_ , **_hers_**. He had been hers in the same way that the child, that _Harry_ , was and continued to be.

He was dead.

The silent tears turned to wrenching sobs.

She fisted a hand in the robes on his chest, started to pull – _him up, herself down?_ – but suddenly Sirius was there, taking her hand and drawing her up an into his chest. He tucked her and Harry into his cloak, where she shivered and shook and sobbed against him.

“I know. I know, poppet,” he choked out, crying as hard as she was. She could feel his tears falling against the crown of her head, dripping down onto her face and mingling with her own.

“I don’t remember,” she cried. “It hurts _so much_ – and I don’t even _remember_!”

“We have to get moving, Lily. I-I have to keep you safe. It’s what James would have wanted.”

She nodded against his chest. She didn’t think she could have stopped crying for all the wealth in the world, but she could keep going. She could do whatever was needed to keep Harry safe, because he was _hers_ and she didn’t _know_ anything, she didn’t _remember_ anything about this strange new world or her place in it, but that – _that_ was certain and sure.

She pulled back a little and looked him in the eyes. They were bright silver, almost glowing in the light of his wand. “Okay. I… trust you,” she decided. “You’re the only person I know, right now,” she sniffed, wiping at her face. “You’re not allowed to leave me.”

There was a slightly conflicted look on his face, but it was swept away when Harry whined briefly, stretching and shifting against her. Sirius’s silver eyes hardened with determination and he nodded. “Lets get you safe and then-“ he blew out a ragged sigh. “Then, I have some apologizing to do.”

“Oh?” she asked brows rising. “What for?”

His lips twisted wryly, “I thought a wolf had abandoned the pack.” He bared his teeth in a near-feral snarl: “Turns out it was a _rat_.”

She blinked at him, very certain that that meant more than the obvious. “Revenge later,” she said, patting his chest. “Safety first.”

“Safety first,” Sirius agreed. He wrapped his arms around her and Harry and, with a sharp _crack_ the last of the Potter family left Godric’s Hollow-

-never to return.


	2. Twilight Mess AU (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which four friends who regularly play an alternate universe style version of "would you rather" find themselves transmigrated into the most recent imagining of their sole Twifanatic friend.

When she woke up, it was with the strange certainty that something quite wrong had been abruptly and shockingly fixed. It was a feeling akin to the lingering ache that came from resetting a dislocated bone. There was an echo of wrongness that yet lingered, but it faded in waves of something that was almost-but-not-quite _relief_ even as she continued to lie there, staring at the ceiling.

She rapidly realized that the ceiling, on second and third glance, was unfamiliar. She sat up and looked around. The bedroom she found herself in was _also_ unfamiliar.

She looked down and barely stifled a shriek.

Forget the ceiling and bedroom: the _body_ was unfamiliar!

With a shaking hand, she lifted and dropped several long, vaguely wavy locks of dark brown hair. When she went to sleep her hair had been significantly shorter and _red_ , not brunette. She scooted off of the bed and scrambled for the mirror over the vanity near the door. The face in the mirror was distinctly different from what she was used to and yet somehow familiar, like a faded memory revisited-

-or a fictional character, long reviled.

She realized with mounting horror that she had woken up as _Bella Swan_ , and as sure as she knew her _real_ name was-

-was…

Oh.

Oh _shit_.

“This is definitely-“ her friend’s name had escaped her as surely and suddenly as her own. Bella growled wordlessly and spun around to punch a pillow on the foot of the bed. “This is all _your_ fault,” she whispered. “Why couldn’t we be in _Mass Effect_?!”

* * *

A few miles away, another woman-turned-teenager facing a similar crisis shivered as it occurred to her that she might not be alone in her predicament.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” she said, quietly but with great feeling. “They’re going to _kill_ me!”

* * *

The-woman-now-known-as-Bella suffered through an awkward morning with her new father, Charlie Swan. She was able to pass most of her skittish behavior off as nerves about starting a new school, or a bad night’s sleep, but she was only _just_ keeping the panic at bay. Her mind was plagued with worries.

What if she’d transmigrated _alone_?

Did she still have canon-Bella’s shield?

Did she still have canon-Bella’s tasty _scent_?

“You okay there, Bells?” Charlie asked, interrupting her increasingly panicked thoughts. “You’re lookin’ a little green around the gills.”

“Just nerves, I think,” she said.

He frowned. “Want me to drive you in?” He raised his hands as if to ward off an objection: “I know, I know, you’re independent and all that, and I got you that car for a reason but, just for the first day? Humor your old man?”

Bella blinked a couple times, thinking. “That would actually be nice? Especially if you could drop me off early so I can finish up whatever paperwork?” She smiled at his quick nod. “Thanks, Char – _dad_.”

He beamed, brown eyes twinkling at her hasty correction. “Well, all right then. Give me a second and I’ll warm up the car.”

* * *

Forks High School was a series of small, squat buildings dotted all over a green campus. It looked odd, but maybe that was just what American schools were like? Bella’s only real experiences were from movies and television, and she’d always assumed those were at least half hyperbole.

“Want me to go in with you?”

“No,” she said, flashing a small but sincere smile Charlie’s way. “Thank you, though.”

“All right. Call me and I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you,” she said again, opening the cruiser’s door. “And Bells?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to look like you think the kids’ll eat you?”

She snorted so hard she almost gave herself whiplash. “I’ll work on it.”

Even this early, almost an hour before classes were scheduled to begin, the car lot was nearly full and at least two dozen students were milling around, catching up after the winter break. Bella was uncomfortably aware that she was the focus of a good amount of scrutiny. _Small town_ , she reminded herself, _canon-Bella had to deal with this too. They don’t know that you’re an imposter._

Fifteen feet away on the sidewalk, a short, pretty girl with a halo of curly brown hair was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was holding the hand of a taller girl with white-blonde hair and a look of fearful misery painted over her angular features. The moment Bella’s eyes met theirs she experienced a sharp shock of _recognition_ , followed swiftly by _relief_.

“Oh thank god,” she breathed, speed walking towards them.

The shorter brunette made as if to lunge for her, and then she very obviously yanked herself back, flat-footed, to the ground. “Hug?” she offered hopefully, holding out her arms.

Bella considered the offer for a fraction of a second and then nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Yay!” the brunette squealed, diving forward. Her hand was still linked with the blonde’s, pulling her along for the ride. What had begun as a semi-awkward hug swiftly became a three-person huddle. The blonde kept trying to squirm away, but the brunette only pulled her closer every time.

“Stop it, Lauren,” the tiny brunette hissed. “It’s okay! At least we’re together!”

“It’s my fault though,” the blonde murmured tearfully. “I’m so sorry-“

“Shut up! Oh my god, we play the alternate universe game all the frickin’ time, we had no way of knowing it could actually happen! And besides, we know you wouldn’t ever do this to us on purpose. Right, Bella?”

Bella sighed, but nodded all the same. “It’s not your fault,” she agreed. “Well, _Twilight_ is your fault, I would have picked _Mass Effect_.”

“I would have picked _Dragon Age_!” Lauren said, wide-eyed. “It was just a one-off! A joke AU!”

“This whole _universe_ is a joke,” the as-yet-unnamed brunette said with a half-smile. She shook her head, tossing some of her hair over her shoulder with a huff. “I’m Jessica now. Come on, we have to look for our fourth.”

Lauren cringed. “You think-“

“She was in the chat, too. I’ll bet _all_ of us transmigrated.”

* * *

It took them roughly five minutes to find their fourth member, who had taken the place of Angela Weber. The four women-turned-girls huddled together in a restroom, silently passing a notebook back and forth as they brainstormed over their unique situation.

Lauren was in favor of following the plot, at least for the first day.

Jessica thought they should all ditch and consider taking shelter in the Res.

Angela hoped things might work out like in canon.

Bella was swift to shoot that thought down. She had less than no interest in being Edward Cullen’s immortal bride and baby momma. She was tempted to ditch, but in the long run it wasn’t a viable option. Maybe if her father had been anyone less than the chief of police they could have swung the runaways option, but as it stood-

“We’re screwed,” Lauren whispered, guilt and terror written on her features.

“It’s not over till the fat lady sings,” Jessica said grimly. “We have options.”

 _Not if Edward can hear our thoughts_ , Angela wrote on their paper. _Bella is probably safe, but the rest of us?_

 _The Cullens kill threats_ , Lauren wrote in carefully. _If they know we know, we’re a threat._

Bella hated the thought of her friends suffering and wished, fiercely that whatever bullshit sparkle magic canon-Bella had could be extended to her friends. Canon-Bella had been able to do that, or something like it as a vampire, right? She refused to believe that doing the same as a human was completely outside the realm of possibility. Almost as soon as she had that thought, she felt _something_ , like the thrum of her pulse in her veins but on the surface of her skin and reaching _out_.

The other three girls in the bathroom shivered and rubbed their arms.

“What was that?” Jessica demanded.

“I – I’m not entirely sure,” Bella said, swaying a little where she stood.

Lauren immediately moved to brace the shorter girl, holding her arm carefully. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, at least…I think so?”

“Classes are going to start soon,” Angela said, glancing at the clock on the wall and biting her lip.

“We should all go with Bella to the office and then compare schedules,” Lauren said.

“We could still-“ Jessica gestured away from the school, cocking an eyebrow at the others.

“I think we should see how this plays out,” Bella said. “We’re already off-book.”

“Lets hope that works to our advantage,” Lauren said grimly, then ‘oofed’ when Jessica dug her elbow into her ribs.

“Lighten up, Laur,” Jessica admonished. “It could be worse.”

“It could be _Hunger Games_ ,” Angela pointed out.

* * *

Bella shared every class with at least one of the other three transmigrators, which was terribly convenient since, as the new girl, everyone was introducing themselves to her. Considering that none of them could exactly match names (of fictional characters) to faces (of actual people), this was a massive boon. By the time lunch rolled around, they’d matched enough faces to names that it was no surprise when Mike, Tyler, Eric, and Ben joined them at their table.

“Are you okay, Lauren?” Tyler asked cautiously.

“What? Yes? I’m fine. Why?” she responded, rapid-fire.

“Totally fine, yeah, we can see that,” Mike said.

Lauren hunched over in her seat, eyes darting around. “I’m fine,” she said after a moment. “Just. I had a rough week,” she continued, voice breaking a little on the last word. “Thanks for asking,” she finished, flashing a polite smile at the boys.

Bella watched as Jessica rubbed a hand on Lauren’s back. It occurred to her that the stress she was feeling over Charlie realizing something was wrong was probably compounded for her friends, who had to try and play a part for an entire town’s worth of people. She searched for a distraction, _any_ distraction, and gasped when she saw five people entering the lunchroom. “Oh,” she breathed.

“What?” Mike’s head whipped around. “Oh, right. Those are the Cullens.”

 _Neither the books nor the movies do them justice_ , Bella thought dazedly.

“Wow,” Angela whispered, so softly that only her fellow transmigrators heard her.

“Fuck,” Jessica sighed, unfortunately she hadn’t been as quiet.

“Really, Jess?” Mike said.

“What?” she shot back.

“I always forget how pretty they all are when there’s a break,” Lauren put in hurriedly.

This got the boys’ attention off of Jessica’s slip, but their narrowed eyes made the blonde hunch over in her seat all over again.

“What she said,” Jessica sniffed. “I mean, come on, Mike. You were looking, too.”

Mike scowled, glancing over at Bella before shrugging. “They’re, well, you know. You give Bella the 411 on them yet?”

“What? No,” Jessica stabbed at the leafy greens on her tray that were attempting to pass themselves off as a salad. “I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf,” she said loftily. “No more gossiping. About anyone.”

 _Well, at least that got their attention off of Lauren and me_ , Bella noted wryly.

She took the moment of reprieve to turn her attention back to her food, planning on ignoring the vampires for as long as she could. This plan was derailed when she heard Lauren let out a soft gasp from beside her. She glanced up to see the blonde’s eyes transfixed on the Cullens. She lifted her own head and ran her eyes over the five vampires seated at the table by the window. They were all strikingly and inhumanely beautiful. Everything about their features looked pared down, as if each individual element had been forged to the best version of itself, then put back together in eerie synchronicity. They were perfectly symmetrical and perfectly still, like a photograph. Two of them were staring in their direction, specifically at Lauren. Bella felt a thrill of alarm, but kept watching. She watched until one of them, the redhead, turned his head and looked _her_ in the eye.

His eyes were darting from her, to Lauren, to Jessica, to Angela, and back again in a rapid pattern. There was something about the way he _moved_ that was just… _wrong_. It sent a shiver down her spine even as the look on his face, one of increasing confusion and frustration, made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Under her steady stare, she watched as his eyes went from a bright gold to a pitch black.

 _Fuck_ , Bella thought. _They know_.

* * *

Lauren couldn’t look away. She knew she should, she knew she _had to_ if she had any hope of trying to keep up the façade of being _Lauren Mallory_ , but she was literally physically incapable of looking away from the two vampires. One was tall and blond, the other was short and brunette, and they were both so beautiful it hurt a little. The brunette was tiny, probably at least half a foot shorter than Lauren was in her new body. She was practically _vibrating_ with contained energy, even as she kept a hand on her blond counterpart's shoulder, mouth moving rapidly as she whispered something in his ear. The blond was tall, even sitting, and broad shouldered. He seemed to _lounge_ at his lunch table like a king on a throne, but there was a coiled tension in his muscles.

He looked like a predator about to spring, and judging by where he was looking she was uncomfortably certain that _if he did_ , it would be at _her_.

The sharp sensation of Jessica’s elbow meeting her ribs jerked her from her musings.

“Quit that,” Jessica hissed.

“Sorry,” Lauren murmured back, turning completely in her seat so that she no longer faced the Cullens. Seeing them only out of her peripherals was not quite as bad as putting her back to them but there was a prickling heat against the side of her head that told her they were _still staring_.

“Did you piss in Jasper’s cornflakes or something?” Tyler asked.

“No, I’ve never-“ _even seen him before_ , she very pointedly did not say. Lauren also very pointedly did not look at Edward Cullen. She had a whole list of things that she Should Not Do and, in the past ten minutes, she was pretty sure she’d managed to hit every single one.

  1. Play your part, don’t let on that anything has changed.
  2. Don’t draw attention. The last things we need are vampires sniffing around.
  3. Don’t be weird. Don’t panic. Be cool.



_Yeah, pretty sure I screwed the pooch on all of those,_ she thought.

“Did you say something mean about Alice’s scarf?” Mike put in, half-joking.

Lauren locked down her muscles to keep herself from looking over at the vampire in question. “Nope,” she said, focusing on her tray. “Jessica and I made the same resolution about gossiping.”

“You’re kidding,” Tyler said flatly. “You’re…not kidding?”

“Holy crap, Angela,” Mike breathed out in wonder. “What did you _do_?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Whatever you did,” Ben said, ignoring the protest. “Could you do it to Samantha too?”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Sure, Ben.”

“Sarcasm? From the Angel?” Eric said. He turned suspicious eyes on Lauren and Jessica: “What did _you_ do?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jessica said, throwing a balled up napkin at the boy. “Maybe we all are turning over a new leaf. Maybe we all had a life-changing experience together over the break. Maybe we were replaced by body snatchers,” she hummed the Twilight Zone theme and twirled her fingers at him. “Give it a rest for now.”

“Huh,” Mike said, watching the byplay. “Well, Jess seems about the same.”

“Hey!”

“So we can rule out body snatchers,” Ben said.

“Yeerks are still an option though,” Eric put in.

“ _Animorphs_? Really?” Lauren said, wrinkling her nose.

The boys exchanged looks.

“Nevermind,” Tyler said. “Body snatchers are back on the table.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said, flicking a hand at them dismissively.

 _We’re fucked, we’re fucked, **we’re fucked**_ , Lauren thought.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Angela pulled Bella to a pause outside the Bio classroom.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “You could still-“

“I should be okay, at least today, right?”

“Yeah, but-“

“If it looks like there’s trouble…” Bella shrugged helplessly.

“I’ll think of something,” Angela said.

They walked into the room arm-in-arm, something that Mr. Banner noted immediately. “Already have a friend, new girl? Well, that’s good. Let me just make a quick change to the seating assignment.” He scribbled out a few lines on his chart, and then nodded them both towards the back of the room. “Good thing you got here at the start of the semester, I hate breaking up good pairs.”

“Oh thank god,” Angela breathed.

They still had to walk by a fan, and they both saw Edward Cullen go frighteningly still as they did so. Angela had a death grip on Bella’s forearm, practically dragging her back to her seat. They were behind and to his right. They watched as he slowly tilted his head up, taking a single slow, deep breath.

He tilted his head back down after a moment and didn’t move – didn’t _breathe_ – again for the rest of the hour.

* * *

All four girls reunited to escort Bella back to the main office to get the final sign-off on her schedule. They watched Edward Cullen freeze at their entrance, at Bella’s entrance, and scowl at all of them. Instead of the pure, murderous fury that they had expected they saw shades of confusion, and even something that might have been fear as he glanced at the four of them.

He stormed out of the office without so much as a goodbye.

“That was…bracing,” Angela said.

“Bella, you are not, under any circumstances, to date that guy,” Jessica said.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Bella said faintly.

“Oh, Bella! How was your first day?” Mrs. Cope asked, smiling as she reached for the girl’s schedule.

“I survived,” Bella said.

Mrs. Cope chuckled. “Sometimes that’s all we can ask. At least you made some friends!”

She glanced back at the other girls and smiled. “Yeah, at least I have some friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this continues eventual pairings have been predetermined and would be as follows: Angela/Alistair, Bella/Garrett, Jessica/Benjamin/Tia, Lauren/Alice/Jasper.


End file.
